


Is that my shirt?

by orphan_account



Series: Harbour in the Tempest [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Fluff, Modern Era, Modern Thedas, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 09:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10988544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Adele/Cullen Tumblr prompt: "Is that my shirt?"





	Is that my shirt?

This case had been wearing on Cullen for a good couple of weeks now, which meant that staying overtime at the station was imperative. As he stepped through the front door of his flat he exhaled, closing it behind him and falling against him. Chin tilted upwards, Cullen took a moment to gather himself – this mystery was persistent in staying so, with any significant leads still eluding him. In times like these, he had to remind himself why he became a detective in the first place.

“Adele?” He called, but the flat remained silent. No creaking floorboards, no footsteps – nothing. Cullen’s heartbeat began to hike upwards in pace and he rested one hand on his holstered handgun, creeping forwards. “Are you there, Adele?”

Cullen moved through the corridor connecting the entrance to the rest of the residence. He withdrew his gun and moved through the flat slowly, quietly, fluidly. Thedas just wasn’t as safe these days and being the man to condemn many notorious criminals to life sentences for horrendous crimes…Cullen was… _jumpy,_ to say the least.

He swept a critical eye over the living room, the kitchen – both were empty. Only the bathroom and the bedroom were left and Cullen was not comforted in the slightest. So many victims had been found in room such as these, but there was always the possibility the perpetrator hadn’t left the scene yet, should he find what he dreaded he would.

Someone was moving in the bedroom, he could hear the shifting weight on the floorboards now. Steady thumps – feet. Brow furrowed in confusion, Cullen pushed open the door and raised his gun, ready to face the music. Brown eyes widened exponentially at him and a shriek sounded. Adele snatched her arms down from above, where she’d been moving them, the bumping stopping as she stood still – _dancing._ She had been dancing.

“Maker’s breath! I-I’m so sorry, Adele!” Cullen rushed forwards as she plucked headphones off her head, holstering his weapon. She sighed in relief, choking out a laugh, slapping a hand to her forehead. She shoved Cullen away, a wide grin on her face.

“Don’t bring the job home, _Detective Rutherford.”_

Cullen shook his head, raising his hands in a show of surrender. “Alright, Adele, I was perhaps a little hasty, but-… _is that my shirt?”_

_“Was_ your shirt,” Adele jabbed a finger into his chest, “not anymore.”

He surveyed her choice of outfit, if it could even be called that: one of his work shirts, folded up her elbows, hanging off of her figure, and a pair of knickers. Well, he assumed there were knickers underneath, unless his focus would wane.

“What in the Void are you doing?”

She rolled her eyes, resting one hand on her hip. “I’m dancing. To our song. In your shirt. Work it out, Detective.”

“You’re…you…”

“How do you get _any_ work done?” She teased, looping her arms loosely around his neck. “I missed you. It’s not your fault, mind you, that you work so late, but you do. A girl gets lonely.”

She kissed his jawline, feeling her full lips press against it. Cullen felt his knees weaken. Wrapping his arms around her in return, he held her tight. Of course nothing had happened to her – Adele wouldn’t let anything happen to her without the world going up in flames first. She looked up at him with those doe eyes that he had fallen in love with.

“Well, I’m not usually one for dancing, but,” he broke away to bow, offering a hand, “may I have this dance, my lady?”

“Oh, you’re a regular knight-in-shining-armour. I thought you didn’t dance.”

“For you, I’ll try.”


End file.
